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... private office, cradling a freshly poured glass of whiskey in his hand, the ice cubes gently clinking against the amber liquid. His gaze fell upon the mobile phone on the desk, the screen displaying Shiller's name. After a moment's hesitation, he pressed the call button.
The phone rang several times before Shiller's voice came through from the other end, maintaining his usual composure, "What's the matter? What has prompted you to call me at this hour?"
Penguin Man took a sip of ...
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